Prayin Mama

I read somewhere once about a mother who had an eerie feeling before her kids went off to school. She couldn’t shake it all morning, but she went about the mundane routine and sent them on their way. She learned later that day that her children died in a bus accident. She believed that she would always wonder what would have happened if she would have prayed with them, for them, before they left. I will never forget this story and I feel like it is a pivotal moment (one of many) for me to pledge to always pray for and with my own children.

Now, you can think what you want about me or think you know me, but I want you to hear me when I tell you this: I am a God-fearin, non-stop prayin mama. I really don’t care what other titles or reputations you want to give me, but I want you to know this intimate detail about myself because I wish I had some mom along the way telling me this is what I did that made all the difference. Prayer is a game changer, folks, and I don’t have all the answers and I am certainly NOT perfect, but these are things I believe to be true based off of God’s word, based off the Jesus books I can’t put down, based off of personal experience. Here’s just a glimpse of some things Blake and I do that might help you if you struggle…if you just don’t know what else to do or you just don’t know how to not worry about something. Practical, every day, biblically based parenting praying stuff.

I pray with my boys every day before they leave the house. Sometimes I ask them to pray. I love starting our day off this way. This isn’t always pretty because sometimes I am praying over them while they scarf down their cereal, or sometimes it is while I am undoing a knot in someone’s shoe; however, sometimes it is peaceful and we get to hold hands and close our eyes and take a deep breath together. It isn’t a “complicated” prayer, but if you don’t know how or what to say, it goes something like this… Heavenly Father, keep my boys safe. Help them honor you in all they do and say today. Help them make wise choices and good friends. Help them stand alone if no one stands with them for You. Help them find their identity in You Father. Thank you for another day. Love you, Amen.

I leave prayers on notes in their lunch boxes.

I write down prayers I pray for them and leave them in their bathroom drawer.

I write down the lengthy prayers in my prayer journal and tear it out and stick it in their baby book.

Seem too simple, too practical? Well, it probably is, but I want my boys to know that I am always praying for them. They don’t always know what they need to pray for (and I don’t know what all I need to pray for either) but I think that by them knowing I do this will make all the difference…knowing that God is FOR them and that I am FOR that is just a game changer. The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson is one of those Jesus books I was talking about. I love this: “And one way or another, your small timid prayers or big audacious prayers will change the trajectory of your life…Prayers are prophesies. They are the best predictors of your spiritual future. Who you become is determined by how you pray. Ultimately, the transcript of your prayers becomes the script of your life.” And that’s what I’m talking about! My biggest role as a mother is to raise godly men and if I’m not constantly centering my prayers on that, then how do I expect that to happen?

“The greatest tragedy in life is the prayers that go unanswered because they go unasked” (Batterson). This is great because literally it is just freeing to me. The Bible says in Matthew to “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” When I get upset because my child doesn’t act a certain way, have I prayed for wisdom on how to parent that? Have I prayed for the Holy Spirit to convict my child so they won’t sin? Have I gotten on my knees and just cried out to God instead of worrying, instead of making some facebook status, instead of texting my mom tribe? Pray, friends, pray! I promise you, if you lean on God’s promises and pray scripture then God will ultimately deliver.

The laying on of hands: my favorite. Often, when my kids sleep—they look like angels then and I don’t want to strangle them usually—when they sleep I sneak into their rooms and I lay my hands on their tiny, warm bodies and I pray for them. I pray health, healing, wisdom; I pray praises to God for these precious gifts; I pray prayers of gratitude for that day; I pray prayers of confession and begging for forgiveness where I fall short. I pray instead of worry. I pray for peace and strength and rest. Mamas, if you don’t do this…DO IT!

Blaze struggles with anger…Kaden struggles with anxiety…anytime that arises I pray, pray, pray and I speak truth and I recite scripture or have them recite scripture. There’s a difference in punishment and discipline and when I focus on instructing and correcting the behavior and why we don’t act that way, they learn more. It is exhausting-way more tiring than just spanking and moving on-but I know it will be way more worth it.

I pray in the car with them-anytime we don’t have a wreck when we should, for safety, for an ambulance or police officer that may pass…

We pray with them at dinner—and those prayers always get interesting to me because I’ve heard some pretty entertaining prayers from my boys—usually we have to remind them to bless the food because they pray about random things like toilets and such. Yes, true story.

We pray with them every night before bed and oh, to hear their childlike faith is a breath of fresh air and a gut check. To have them witness the healing of Uncle D and Jordan from cancer. To have them pray for rain and it rain. To have them have so much hope and faith that their grandpa and great-grandma will stop smoking. To have them pray for each other and us…oh how I love it so.

Family prayer nights…if you don’t have one then make one. Tuesdays are usually ours. Model for them what it looks like to really pray. Don’t be embarrassed or ashamed. You will be great. (and don’t expect everyone to be quiet or to not laugh because it happens and God understands your chaotic life)

When Blake and I pray together in bed, one of the things we pray for is their future spouses: that they know Him and that our boys will be spiritual leaders of their wives and children. I have to pray for the strength to one day let them go (that’s unfortunately biblical, people)

One of the things I pray is Luke 2:52 as a prayer blessing, “Lord, let them grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.”

Parents, we are prophets to our children. We need to know scripture, we need to know the promises of God and we need to teach both to them. 

Prayer is everything. I truly believe that with all of my being. Please feel free to share anything you do on a continual basis that I could implement. Know that I commit to keep praying. My prayer for all of you reading this is that you just commit in some way to do a better job at praying with and for your kids-or commit to pray for someone else’s kids (my kids), and I know that will make all the difference.

You're Worth It

My sister came to visit me today on my birthday just to see me. ME. I honestly felt a little guilty that she would spend one of her days off this way, since on her work days she unselfishly saves lives and all and I feel she deserves spending her free time elsewhere. At the same time, I felt so happy because I knew she would make this day about me and all of my favorite things.  Let’s be honest: when you are a mom and a wife, birthdays are just days. I vacuumed today, made my bed, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up messes, the mundane tasks I can never get away with ignoring. I even showered AND brushed my teeth AND did my hair AND even put on mascara because on normal days I have to prioritize those things and they aren’t priorities for this momlife I live. I’m even letting my son have two friends spend the night tonight on my day. With my sister here for those hours today, though, someone cared about me.  (Clarification: Blake makes my birthday special but there is just something about my sister coming that made it even more exciting.) 

 

If you know my sister, you know there are these things about her that are endearing. She is passionate about certain things and when she talks about those things her eyes light up. She will probably apologize about talking too much also, but that is something that you just have to get used to with her. I don’t mean that to sound bad, but when she gets on a topic she just doesn’t quit talking and you don’t really want her to either. Today, it was the conversation about healing and faith that just had me sitting there admiring my little sister. She told me story after story about what God has been doing in her life and things he has been revealing to her through Himself and other people.  She thought she sounded crazy sometimes (and the girl in Orange Leaf probably thought we were crazy but who cares) but she didn’t sound crazy to me. I covet her stories and the people she knows sometimes. She told me story after story of healing that she had heard or witnessed.  She told me that she, like myself, have questioned the line between faith and healing and the lack of dependence on the Holy Spirit sometimes.  She told me her thoughts about her sweet friend that has cancer and let me read encouraging texts from people that she wished were her first thoughts too.  We are alike, Kenz and I—even when we are so different. I feel like we know so much yet have barely scratched the surface with our faith. It is so cliché but we have been through so much in our lives and sometimes I can’t believe where we are, but I know it is only by the grace of God. Mackenzie uses her past experiences and transforms them into good work for the Lord.  All of the trauma she has been through would make anyone else give up. Not her. She always surprises me with her ambition to do more and learn more.  She also has this capacity to love people and she is one of the only people that I know that is so real and raw that I don’t feel like I have to hide my true colors because she will love me anyway.

 

Anyways, I could go on and on but the thing that stuck out to me most today was when she left. She hugged me and threatened me to not cry even though she said she might…I thanked her for coming and she said You’re worth it. Gasp. How many times do I not feel like that as a child of God, as a person, as a mom, as a wife, as a friend?  I see Jesus when I look at my sister and I know this is an affirmation I needed to hear today. She also told me to not grow weary and I needed that reminder too.  (I felt so worth it, I even finally wrote a blog today amidst the chaos of my house!) I am so thankful for her. Love you, Kenz.

My Jesus in My School

I have read different blogs about the arguments of religion in school, specifically Christianity.  As a teacher, I have encountered this subject both personally and professionally. If you are a Christian and you work in a public school, you know this is a sticky subject.  I just want to share with you the ways I have seen Jesus in school, and hopefully inspire you to look for Him if you try to separate it a little too much. Yes, you need to be careful. However, I think that when people talk about "Jesus in school," they think of this extravagant thing that happens, like a teacher being vocal about being pro-life or praying in front of a class. These are extreme and bold cases and I'm sure they have happened, but my Jesus in my school looks a little different.

At the start of each year and throughout the year, I walk through my classroom and pray over each desk. As creepy as that sounds, I want to pray for each student that will sit there before I know him or her. I pray for their parents and for their other teachers. I pray for their siblings and for their well-being. I pray that they make it through high school and find out who they are. I pray that they change the world and that I guide them in doing so.

I see Jesus when students meet in the early morning at FCA.
I see Jesus when a student goes out of his or her way to sit with that "unlovable" at lunch.
I see Jesus when a teacher loves on the kids with special needs.
I see Jesus when I keep my mouth shut and speak love instead of hate.
I see Jesus when the principal prays over faculty lunch.
I see Jesus when the Holy Spirit gives me the words to say.
I see Jesus when that young girl comes to me and confesses she's pregnant, because I get to share Jesus' grace with her.
I see Jesus when I get to go home to my family after a long day of teaching.
I see Jesus when a student asks to use the Bible on a research paper.
I see Jesus when the community comes together after a tornado.
I see Jesus when a student passes away and the school unites.
I see Jesus when the cafeteria lady gives that student a little more food so he doesn't go hungry.

These may seem like insignificant things, but they keep me going. I could name more, but I just wanted to give you a glimpse.  I challenge you, teacher, admin, bus driver, para, cafeteria worker, or janitor, to look for the Jesus this year in your school. As hard as the government tries to keep Him out, He will prevail.

Cancer

Everyone at some point in their life has been impacted by cancer. Cancer is blind, choosing its next victim without caution or concern. It doesn’t care if you are a mother, father, aunt, uncle, cousin, friend, daughter, son, grandma, grandpa; it doesn’t care what profession you have. It doesn’t only devastate the victim; it ravages families, friends, and coworkers alike.  Everyone can think right now about how their lives have been changed by cancer. Multiple people in my family alone have had it, so this story hits home for me.

As a teacher, I have the privilege of becoming close with my students. One current student I have has forever impacted my life because of her dedication and bravery.  Anja is making a difference in the world. Why? Because she wants to and she won’t let anybody stop her.

Anja approached me a few weeks ago and told me she wanted to shave her head. Specifically, she wanted to shave her head for cancer. I am ashamed to say that I am one of those people who does not entertain the idea of hope often. I’m not a pessimist naturally in life, but when it comes to things like this I tend to think they won’t work out. My reaction to her was “why, what are your intentions for doing that?” She explained to me that she has a passion for kids with cancer. She wanted to raise awareness by doing this, since she has a family member with cancer, and she hoped she could potentially spread the Gospel by doing this. She was hesitant though, because she didn’t want to offend cancer patients. She is an obedient child too, so since her parents weren’t welcoming the idea, she wanted to know where the boundary was between being obedient and doing something you felt passionate about.  I told her to respect her parents (this is the hard part about being the teacher-because I know them as a student and I am supposed to be on their side!) but I also told her that hair grows back and I think it would be commendable if she did that. I didn’t think much about it, and honestly didn’t know if she would follow through with it. After all, doing things in theory and then doing things in reality are different. Reality takes courage. I mean, I can say most days I hate doing my hair and I just want to shave my head. If someone was standing right there with clippers though, I wouldn’t be so daring. 

Within the next few weeks, Anja had emailed people telling her of her idea. She didn’t generally get a positive response. She did not give up. She was looking for guidance, looking for someone to tell her how to get a foundation started or what cancer patients needed or wanted the most.  She finally found someone who told her to make care packages for them and that’s just what she did. For her 15^th birthday, instead of having a party or receiving gifts, and making it all about her, she asked that her guests buy things to put in a care package like water, Gatorade, or blankets. I was so honored and flattered to be invited to this event. I wanted my family to be there because I want my boys to remember that. I explained to them about this noble thing my student chose to do. She chose to go against the social norm and shave off her long, pretty hair. She invited people to come together and share her passion with her. She explained her reasons for doing it and didn’t do it in vain.  She decided on something and followed through with it despite fear or rejection. She is showing the love of Jesus in a practical, simple way.  She displays the qualities I want my boys to have and I think her actions are just that of a role model.  

If you know Anja, you know how cool she is. She considers herself “socially awkward,” but I was so taken by watching her interact with her peers and family at this party. I envy her strength and her bravery and her passion for something that will impact others. I know she will do great things in life and I’m so glad I can say I knew her in this life.

I've had this blog written for almost a week. I found out today that a previous student has been diagnosed with cancer. I was just talking with him this last week, recalling memories of when he was in my class. Memories like the dance-offs we would have because he is an awesome dancer. Memories like when he would so graciously correct me because he is a child genius, how he has scored so high on his ACT at such a young age; we also talked about his sophomore year and his junior year since being in my class. This student, like all of my students is special to me. I realized today why I haven't posted this blog yet. It is because of Jordan. And maybe because of Anja's bravery, maybe Jordan will have a little more strength undergoing Chemo because of Anja. Maybe because Anja cares and will make a difference through her practical ways of kindness, this boy who is in her youth group will be grateful. 

Tucking in my boys tonight, after they prayed a special prayer for Jordan, we had to explain that God doesn't make bad things happen to good people but that he can heal them. They remembered Anja and her fierce bravery in shaving her head for kids with cancer, and even though everything doesn't make sense to them (or me) I know somehow it is all connected. I wish I had more words but right now I'm proud and heartbroken all at the same time. 

Please join me in praying for guidance for Anja as she continues being obedient to God and please also pray for Jordan and his healing and his family. 

*I asked Anja if I could write a blog about her and she agreed. I also asked permission before posting a picture.

 

Students

 

I write a great deal of blogs in my head.  I don’t end up writing some because I read a blog on Facebook of exactly what I wanted to say and then I literally hit myself on the head and hate myself for not writing that. I know I need to blog more, but not even blog—just write. I'm writing this blog because I have to because my heart has been heavy lately for my students.  I yearn to know their story; however, when I find out I just ache for them.

 

I learn about my students mostly through their writing. They love to express themselves even though they put on a façade of hatred towards schoolwork. I try to have them write for pleasure as much as I do for academic purposes, but with time restraints it doesn’t always happen. I have them write “no-send letters.” This is their favorite because they write to a person with no intention of giving them that letter. Even with all the technology, they crave this activity and ask to do it all the time. They have a lot to say and writing helps them release that.

 

Recently, my students turned in a narrative essay. Narrative writing, in case you were wondering J, is when the writer tells a story where the reader learns a lesson or gains insight about the writer. I get to be the reader of these essays and I so enjoy it.  I read every.single.one. All 150. It takes me about a week, which seems like a lot, but when I am finished reading them I feel a mix of emotions. I feel happy, proud, sad, angry, hopeless, curious, empowered, weak and strong all at the same time. I feel happy because some of their stories are hilarious. I feel proud because of all the teachers that worked together to get them to this point of writing: their elementary teachers for teaching them letters, how to read, how to form sentences; for their middle school teachers for teaching them to write essays; and I feel proud of myself because they finished something, turned it in, and wanted me to read it. I feel sad, angry, and hopeless because some of their stories are h e a v y. These students have been through too much at their age and are maybe still living in a bad situation. I get angry at the thought that some children weren’t raised how I was and they just need love. I feel hopeless because I can do nothing about that situation. I feel curious because sometimes I want to know more. I feel empowered because I can be the hope this child needs. I feel weak because I’m tired of reading and grading, and I feel strong because I can face another day without being hungry, abused, tired, or lonely like some of my students.

Yesterday, I asked one student about his essay while it was just him and I in the room. I asked him if he was really bullied in elementary school because this kid is so vibrant, so extraverted, popular, funny, and kind.  He got serious and explained that he had. I asked him who bullied him and he responded with names that I am sure he will never forget. He told me story after story about what he had to go through each day he walked home.  One time, this group of older kids had a can of hair spray and a lighter and they burned some of his hair off. He was in second grade. I started crying because I have a child that old! He had pictures he showed me on his phone of when he was bald because of this incident. He told me that once he stood up to them, only to be beat up.  This whole time I can’t believe these things happened to him because of how he acts around everyone.  In his essay he explains that the principal actually took care of the situation because the parents had called. An educator-a silent hero- took action.  I am proud of the man this student is becoming and know he will go far in life and I was so glad he shared his story with me. (note: I asked him if I could write about him in my blog J)

 

This is just one reason my heart is heavy. I try to remember every day that my students carry weight with them.  You should all remember this, not just if you are a teacher, but with everyone you come into contact with. Everyone has a story and is dealing with something that is buried deep within their soul.  If you take the time to ask, you will know and understand that person better.  I do not ever regret asking a student about their story. Sometimes I don’t even have to ask—they will just confide in me.  The student/teacher relationship is often criticized in media, but you might not know about all of the positive aspects of this relationship.  One of my favorite things is when I hand back something like an essay, where they poured their heart into it and wanted me to know this tiny piece of their story, and our eyes meet. I smile—they smile—and we just have this understanding about what went down. I get them and they feel that and it is this unexplainable feeling of understanding that I wish I could put into words.

You don't even know!

You have no idea. Unless you are a teacher-you just don’t know. Since people attended school and learned from a teacher, they think that they know what teachers do. I’m here to tell you this: being a teacher is nothing like what you think it is.

There are a lot of great, rewarding, challenging paid jobs out there. I have respect for all jobs because that’s just what they are: jobs.  Somebody has to suck it up and go to work to that specific job every day. Some do jobs that they aren’t paid to do but still work their butt off every day.  I have an immense respect for my brother and sister. We have this understanding that we couldn’t do each other’s job.  My brother is a trooper in the Oklahoma Highway Patrol.  Personally, I don’t care about others enough to take a bullet for them or protect and serve them when they are asleep. Just being honest, but if you know me, you know compassion isn’t my strong suit.  Kyle isn’t just a guy with a gun and power; he is a hero.  He makes that teenager pour out the alcohol or dump out the tobacco. Not only that but then he escorts them home and makes them tell parents. He cares for people he doesn’t even know or won’t see again.  He puts his life in danger to chase after the guy on drugs.  He doesn’t just sit and write speeding tickets because he has better things to do with his time.  So honorable.  My sister is an ER Nurse at Southwest Integris Medical Center. She works in the busiest ER in OKC. Wow, right?!  Crazy! She does tell me lots of stories but I know there are things she doesn’t tell me because I can’t stomach them.  She is constantly busy for 12 hours straight-sometimes even longer. She doesn’t sit down, doesn’t get to eat sometimes, and doesn’t quit thinking. She holds sick babies, comforts families that have lost someone, and sees horrible things that may make her lose faith in humanity for a moment; however, she is exceptional at her job. She saves lives! She does all these things in a day’s work and still finds time to be a daughter, sister, friend, and a church member.  I truly admire her heroism as well.

While I love my brother and sister and know that all of our jobs are physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting, I have no greater respect than for that of a teacher. 

Just to give you an idea-here are some things about teachers you may not know or have considered:

When a teacher stands up in front of a class at 8 AM and begins to teach, students do not know what all has happened that morning preceding that moment.  She had to wake up on time, get herself ready, her kids ready, and get everyone to their designated place whether that is daycare, school, or the bus stop. Then she fights traffic (maybe gets coffee on a good day) and finds a parking place (which is not as easy as it sounds).  It doesn’t really matter what her morning was like, she has to hide the chaos and put on a show.  Students need her. They need her to inspire them, to motivate them, to teach them that specific subject, to teach the hidden curriculum, to notice them as people, to understand them, to give them a safe place and to love them.  I usually take a deep breath in the moment of silence every morning and silently pray “Jesus” because I don’t have to say words-He knows.

College doesn’t prepare you as a teacher for most aspects of your job. Since I was an English Education major, I took English classes and I took Education classes. In my English classes we read novels, wrote papers, discussed, analyzed, philosophized; in my Education classes we learned classroom management techniques, different theories of Education, different teaching approaches, laws, and child psychology.  However, there was never one correct answer.  No professor ever said, “this is how you teach a novel…this is how you motivate the unmotivated…this is how you hold back tears when you learned how a kid was locked in a closet most of his childhood…this is how you deal with stress…this is how you manage time to grade 150 essays in a week…”  I haven’t taught very long, but I have taught long enough to know that there is no college, no class, no professor that can truly prepare you for this profession.  Even while I am writing this I am overwhelmed by the thought of portraying parts of my job to you.  We do not just work from 8-3. We get here early, prepare for the day, talk all day, think all day, walk around all day, and are ruled by bells, schedules, emails, rules, state standards, EOI’s, assemblies, data, grade books, lesson plans, professional development….on and on and on.  Do not be mistaken: I am not complaining. I chose this job and knew I wanted to be a teacher since I was 6. I am just making you aware in case you didn’t know. In case you didn’t know, we stay late after school. We cry in bed at night sometimes. We Pinterest all through the summer, finding new ideas, games, and lessons to entertain students. We don’t get paid like we should. We don’t really “get summer’s off” because of boot camp, meetings, or changes in instruction because of the state standards. In case you didn’t know, students love us. They act like they don’t, but they are overjoyed when they see us at Walmart, McDonalds, or the movies.  They desire to follow us on twitter, to creep our Instagram, to look through our Facebook pictures because we are interesting to them (despite how the media portrays teachers). 

In case you didn’t know, I am a parent to 150 different kids every year.  I do not take my job lightly.  I have to enforce respect, hard work, determination, critical thinking, problem solving, courteousness, citizenship, and social mores every day.  In reference to my statement earlier about not taking a bullet for someone I don’t know: this is still true. However, I would not think twice about taking a bullet for any one of my students. It is my nature-the mama bear in me-to put them first. This is also something they don’t teach in college.

It baffles me that at every bell, every day, teachers across the school, the district, the state, and the country are all doing what I am doing. We are simply trying to change the world.  Teachers all have different reasons why they teach but deep down we all just want to change the world (and make sure our students use proper grammar while doing so)…

I know I have only nearly touched on a few things about teachers but I need to write sometimes to process and get it out there…Even though we need to be humble, some teacher needs to hear more positive in their life, to be encouraged, honored, loved, and recognized for what they choose to do everyday-not because they have to-but because they want to.

I work with an amazing group of teachers and administration at my school and I feel truly blessed to know that this is a calling-not for the weak-but for the bold, the brave, the authentic, the zealous, the heroic.

Easy to Love

I am still learning about myself. Honestly, a lot about myself. One would think that at 24 almost 25 that you would have your shit together. But I don’t and that’s not easy for me to admit. And I’m learning about myself at the mercy of my marriage. My understanding husband has been revealing qualities about me that I’m not proud of: personal qualities, wife qualities, mommy qualities that need improvement. 

The other night when Blake and I were having an argument he flat out asked me, “do you want me to love you?” He said it very calmly and I replied, “no.” I was upset with our marriage because it wasn’t playing out like I thought it should. I felt respect was compromised and that the whole concept of give and take was more about taking than giving. Blake had made the comment that he thought I thought I was always right. Well, I am. I mean, he is always the one that is messing things up and pissing me off. (*keep up with my sarcasm*) The truth is, however, that I realize that I am the problem the majority of the time. I had expressed to him that I don’t think love is enough. I love him and he loves me, but sometimes I feel that the problems we have are unable to be fixed.

We are currently participating in this marriage bible study and only have one week left. I thought this bible study would bring us closer together but I have been mistaken. This is one of those points in life that God slaps you and basically says work on this, fix this, honor me while doing so, practice what you preach kind of times.

After I replied “no” to Blake’s question he was quiet for a little bit and then asked me, “do you mean that?” And then he asked me again, “Jandi, do you want me to love you?” I thought about it and said, “yes.”  I realized that I have these high expectations of how he should love me. Expectations like he should be romantic every day, serve me every day, just do.what.I.say., surprise me with doing my chores, sit inside with me, give up his plans, make love after a long day….all these things and I don’t make it easy for him to love me. I make it difficult by expecting him to read my mind and by not communicating with him. I expect him to do these things for me but don’t return the favor. I do things for him and then hold those things against him and use them to my benefit instead of just having pure intentions and serving him.

Why I am writing this? Do I care that you know about my marriage and where it falls short? I want you to think about if you are easy to love for your spouse or if you make it difficult because you are unhappy.  If you aren’t married, are your intentions pure with serving God? Maybe you have no idea what I’m talking about, but if you do then I challenge you to do a gut check. 

I’m thankful for my husband. So thankful. That night we had the argument, it was late into the night-actually early morning. I was finished talking and wanted to go to bed and Blake got up and went into the living room and was there for awhile. I thought he was going to the couch. But no. I woke up to a long letter the next day that explained LOVE IS ENOUGH and that he will never leave and will try harder and will be the best husband and daddy that God wants him to be.  (I asked if he googled the letter because it was so good lol) Don’t limit God in any aspect of your life, your marriage especially.